Hand Made {a #poem}

I bend to be formed,

not torn or broken

but tempered by heat,

a fire so hot the white

is all You see of me.

I said change and grow

and I’m bent so low

this shape of me is

melting brass forged

by tools so strong

I fear the breaking.


But I’m bound to bend,

be shaped, sheared sound,

let this shine of me

play gleaming glory,

become the beautiful

breath of sudden

notes quickened by

Spirit, living tune played

through me, a golden

song borne on the

honeyed breeze of dawn.


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14 thoughts on “Hand Made {a #poem}

  1. The fire is our conscience. And to some the heat is terrible. The conscience can be terrible, and it will, to some, be an eternal fire. To think of it mending you, as you do, is nice, of course. But I prefer to have it like a camp fire. 🙂

  2. “the white is all you see of me.” wow. purity. righteousness. that's all we see, when someone serves. so true. a powerful write, friend. may God give you strength as love on others.

  3. Bending not breaking… what a powerful imagery! The fact that fire is needed to do that – ouch and yet beautiful at the same time…

  4. Oh, so beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with us. this has really ministered to me today.

  5. I read your poem aloud, as I REALLY liked the sound of the words you chose! And, the final stanza was breathtaking.

  6. whew…nice intensity…the molding, making and refining of us def comes with some bending and maybe even a bit of screaming…smiles.

  7. Oh, yeah, I like this, Jody Lee! Wonderful metaphore!

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